This Birthday, I’m Mostly a Libran


If you’re a keen reader of my blog – and a big hello if you are – you’ll know that this year, my birthday wasn’t a happy one. I was struck down with what turns out to be a viral inner ear infection comically called labyrinthitis (or the David Bowie film disease as my mate christened it). This meant I had to throw all my birthday plans out the window and instead, sit upright because every time I lay down, moved my head or went to walk anywhere, I felt nauseous and the world span. The upside of this is that my birthday was suspended and will now take place when I’m feeling better in October, so this year, I get to try out having a proper autumnal birthday and being a Libran…

Having been a Virgo all my life I’m quite excited about being a Libran for a change. Look up Virgoan traits and you’re told we’re fussy, critical, controlling, worrywarts. In contrast, the internet says that Librans are easy-going, sociable, romantic, charming – and the internet never lies does it? I can do romantic and charming, no problem.

Also, my September birthday is often sun-flecked, sparking the last of summer’s embers (apart from this year where it was apocalyptically wet, the rain slapping our skylight like a persistent elder sibling). But in mid-October the temperature will be ten degrees lower, the leaves coating the pavements, the wind whistling in my ears.

I normally share my birthday with the likes of Amy Winehouse, Andrew Lincoln, Sam Neill and Alex Clare. This year though, I’m rubbing shoulders with Librans such as Usher, Ralph Lauren, Cliff Richard and Steve Coogan. When we go out for my birthday meal it’s going to be 72 days to Christmas (rather than 103), 17 days to Halloween (not 48) and the contestants on Strictly will already be three weeks into their weight-loss regime.

Will I be able to cope with the upheaval, the very Octoberness of it all? Most probably I reckon. But mostly, having been denied it once, I’m just looking forward to being taken out for a posh meal and having it paid for. What’s the point of a birthday otherwise?